


endless numbered days

by zauberer_sirin



Series: makeouts are mandatory [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9983855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Written for the Cousy Kisses Drabble-a-thon. Prompt: "lazy"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



She’s safe and in one piece and with that edge of fear gone he crashes, heavy and limbless, just like her, on their bed. He sees his life spreading in front of him for the next handful of years and it’s like this, like today - he watches Daisy save the world, h tries to help, they take care of their injuries, they lie here drawing their first safe breath in days. The perspective makes him feel so tired and so happy. 

They manage to kick their boots off, somehow, and then get under the covers.

She grabs him, pulling him into a slow, open-mouthed kiss. There’s a hint of neediness there, of the usual wow-we-almost-died need, but it’s mostly exhaustion and familiarity, and while being kissed by Daisy will never feel ordinary it does gives Coulson a sense of closure every time, after a mission, like he can’t really believe they are alive and safe until he is in her arms like this.

When she pulls back Coulson runs his thumb across her eyebrow, touching the spot he swears he saw her get a hit from the bad guys.

Daisy fidgets trying to get the zip of her suit down, but it’s not moving, her fingers too loose.

“Too tired to undress,” she sighs, closing her lips around his.

“Me too. I’m not undressing you.”

Daisy waggles her eyebrows.

“ _You’re not?_ ”

“Too tired.”

She smirks. “...or too old?”

He groans.

Daisy kisses him, conciliatory, apologetic, and sweet in a way he never thought he’d find so charming. He wonders how many bruises she’ll have tomorrow. How many _he_ ’ll have tomorrow. Her mouth barely moves, he can feel the pulse of her lips pressed against his, the sensation a lullaby.

They fall asleep, little by little, their mouths still touching.


End file.
